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THE ADIEU.
Sweet Falsehoods, fare ye well!
That may not longer dwell
In this fond heart, dear paramours of Youth!
A cold, unloving bride
Is ever at my side—
Yet who so pure, so beautiful as Truth?
That may not longer dwell
In this fond heart, dear paramours of Youth!
A cold, unloving bride
Is ever at my side—
Yet who so pure, so beautiful as Truth?
Long hath she sought my side,
And would not be denied,
Till, all perforce, she won my spirit o'er—
And though her glances be
But hard and stern to me,
At every step I love her more and more.
And would not be denied,
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And though her glances be
But hard and stern to me,
At every step I love her more and more.
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